


*kyouko voice* ey girl can i get ur number

by kristyn



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: College AU, F/F, Fic Prompt Meme, First Meeting, Fluff, from tumblr, literally just bumping into each other au, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2716673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristyn/pseuds/kristyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>college au of kyouko and sayaka's first meeting asdf;lkdjf i set it in usa bc i dont know squat abt japanese universities whoops sry</p>
            </blockquote>





	*kyouko voice* ey girl can i get ur number

**Author's Note:**

> im slowly in the process of collecting all my fics that ive written but never posted here b4 so yeah let the journey begin  
> u can find this lil number on the interwebz [right here](http://homuratrash.tumblr.com/post/97099706941/24-with-kyosaya)

You’re not even particularly going anywhere when it happens.

It’s a nice day, and you spent 90% of it indoors, working. You want fresh air.

You swing your arms and look at the sky. Clouds are forming, but the sun is still beating down. The air is electrified. A storm is coming, you imagine.

The area turns more urban as you approach downtown. College kids like you are everywhere. Most in clumps, some milling about, alone as you are. You wonder about their stories.

You decide to grab a burger at the joint nearby. But as you’re crossing the road, some kids on longboards shoot past, just narrowly missing you.

You whip around, angered. “Watch it!” you yell.

“WATCH OUT!” a shout mirroring yours erupts from behind you. You don’t turn in time. The longboarder crashes right into your back with such force it knocks you forward onto the sidewalk. The longboarder is crushing your lungs and few passersby even acknowledge the accident, let alone lend their help.

“Get off!” you grumble.She complies.  All you wanted was to enjoy this nice day, but NO, trouble always has to find you, doesn’t—

You lift your head.

  
  


She is the sky.

Ashen blue. Electricity. Heat.

You stumble over your feet, your words. Someone is handing your longboard to you but you’re not paying attention. You’re lost in the watery blue of her eyes, blue so light it seems to float away, to wash itself in clouds and fall back to earth in cold, cold rain, rain that drips, drips….

She lifts her hand to feel the drops, just in time for the downpour. Unthinkingly, you take hold of her hand and run.

“Where are we going?” she yells over the thick din of heavy rain.

You zigzag through the town, splashing in puddles and blinking away water. You know exactly where you are.

You stop at the skate park, letting go of her hand. For a moment, you both stand there, getting even more soaked.

“In the halfpipe,” you say. She looks bewildered, but you run, and she follows.

  
  


Under the wooden structure is a perfect nook for sitting. She settles in and you follow suit.

The skate park is on sloped land, and mud begins to run under your feet. You’re crouching and hoping for the best. You’ll need to shower when you return home, no matter what happens.

She’s staring at you with wide eyes and you wonder if she’s stoned. Nonetheless, you dutifully hold out your hand.

“I’m Sayaka.”

She pauses. “Kyoko.”

She takes your hand briefly.

She suddenly laughs, lifting her hand to her red, red hair.

“I knocked ya right down, didn’t I?”

You narrow your eyes. Is she making fun of you? You’ve decided she’s not high or drunk.

“Yeah, you gonna say sorry?” you snap.

Her smile drops. “Uh, yeah. I probably should, right?”

“Uh, yeah, you should!”

Sometimes you think courteous people like you are a rare breed.

She smiles again and leans against the structure. Her ass is getting muddy.

She looks forward. “Thing is, I’m not sorry.”

Your jaw nearly drops. This girl keeps surprising you with her rudeness. You want to leave. But you stay, because someone needs to teach this girl manners, and it looks like you’re the one who has to do it.

You open your mouth to speak but she beats you to it.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong! I am sorry your ass hit the pavement so hard, and I’m sorry I prob’ly broke your ribs fallin’ on you like that.”

You scoff. Better than nothing, you guess.

“But I’m not sorry I met you.”

Whatever you were going to say is lost forever. You feel heat rising to your face.

“Where do you get off saying a thing like that?” you retort with weak anger. “We don’t even know each other! We’re absolute strangers to each other.”

  
  


“But we’re not,” you say slyly. “We shook hands.”

“Oh, like that means a thing.”

“I know your name, and you know mine. And we’re having a conversation. And your eyes are beautiful.”

“Wha—!! Wh-what does that have to do with anything?!”

“I even complimented you. We’re already friends, see?” you say, smiling.

“Listen here, chick, we’re not friends. In fact, I think I don’t like you!”

“You think?”

She fumes. “No, I definitely don’t like you!”

She shoots up from her crouching position, and you wince before it even happens.

The resulting knock of skull on wood shakes the whole structure, and sends her slapping down to the ground on her knees. Concerned, you take her elbows.

“Holy shit, you okay?”

She pushes you off and you land in the mud.

“Does it fucking LOOK LIKE IT?”

“Do you think you have a, a, fuck, what is it called, why am I blanking—”

“I don’t have a concussion, idiot!” she yells in your ear.

“OH right, concussion. Say the alphabet.”

“What?”

“If you can say the alphabet, you don’t have a concussion! Or, wait, I think it’s the alphabet but backwards—”

“No one can say the alphabet backwards, concussed or not!!”

“Sure, you can, uhh, z, y, x, w, t, u, v… wait, no—”

“Just take me somewhere with an ice pack. Oh my god. This is the worst conversation I’ve ever had.”

You nod and take her back out in the storm. Distant thunder breaks the silence.

“Shit.”

“Let’s go to my apartment,” you suggest.

“Whatever.”

“I still think you’re beautiful.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“You could say thank you, you know.”

“Is it actually a compliment?” she asks. “Or are you just fucking with me?”

“How could I be fucking with you? Have you even looked at yourself? You’re really pretty.”

“That’s weird. Stop saying that.”

“How is it weird??”

“Is it, like, a flirt??”

You narrowly miss getting hit by a car as you start to cross the road. The car sprays water over you, but you barely notice the additional moisture.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” she yells after the car.

“Of course it’s a flirt.”

“What?”

“You’re hopeless.”

You stop in front of your shabby white apartment building with the cracked glass door, quickly slipping your key in the lock.

“Fifth floor, no elevator,” you say as you enter the hush of indoors after rain. “Get ready to get some exercise.”

  
  


You’re no stranger to stairs. You’re on the seventh floor of your own housing complex in Winooski, and nearly once a day the elevator breaks down. You’ve stopped trusting it months ago.

Things shift momentarily out of focus as you trudge upward behind Kyoko, and you worry you really do have a concussion.

You’re about to ask her about it, when you reach the first landing and she faces you.

“You okay?” she asks gently.

Your heart races. What the fuck. You just met this girl. Why are you acting like a lovesick highschooler.

“Uhhh, I hope.”

She furrows her brow in thought, and then she’s climbing up again.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“Huh?”

“Talking helps, right? Talking about yourself, making sure your head’s not fucked up or anything.”

“I guess.”

“Where are ya from?”

“Next town over.”

“Nah, where’d you grow up?”

“Connecticut. Glastonbury.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

“Lucky.”

You wait for another question and she gives it.

“Any pets?”

“No. I lived in an apartment as a kid and there weren’t pets allowed.”

“Bet you wanted one.”

“Not really.”

“What’s your major? You’re one of them college kids, I’m guessing.”

“What, and you’re not?”

“Nah. Couldn’t really get into that. Just livin’ here for the perks.”

You scoff. “What perks?”

“Cute college girls.”

Your heart flips.

“I’m film major.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why film? What do ya like about it?”

You’ve never given it much thought before. “I guess… I just love the flow of film. I love how it tells a story, sometimes through the littlest of details.” What else? “Uhh, it’s just cool,” you finish.

“Well said. What’s your year?”

“Third year.”

“You 21, then?”

“Uh, yeah?”

You reach the fifth floor landing.

“One more question,” says Kyoko, facing you.

“What?”

“You free this Friday?”

“What!”

“Wanna go on a date? I can pick you up.”

“Just ice my head.”

“I’ll take that as a maybe.”

 


End file.
